Making lesbians happy – one book at a time!

Mystically Caving

Last weekend Layce, Emma and I went on another one of our excellent family adventures. We went to Harrison, Arkansas to see the Mystic Caves—a series of caves containing stalagmites and stalactites.
I reviewed all pertinent information about the caves on their website. I realized as I looked at ticket prices that Emma is now 13 so she’s an adult and has to pay full price. There was however a printable three dollar off coupon. This would offset the increase. I ran upstairs to my office to print the coupon.
Layce stared at me as I entered the room. My office is part of the master suite which takes up the entire second floor—it’s an open floor plan and the bathroom is part of the flow.
“You can’t be up here,” Layce said.
“But I need to run off the coupon. It’ll just take a minute.”
“I don’t have a minute. You need to leave, right now.”
“But we have to pay full price for Emma. This will offset the additional expenditure.”
I left but the poop window had closed. I would find this out later.
The cave tour was guided. We trundled down several flights of stairs and saw these amazing rock formations. There were stalactites and mites and ripples and pearls. Emma and I were fascinated. I glanced over at Layce who was intently studying the ceiling.
Then the Orphans of Africa Choir were asked to sing. The orphans were on the tour as well. There was one little girl who kept trying to climb back out of the cave but was always brought back around. I began to wonder if she knew something I didn’t. The singing started and the cave acoustics were astounding. Layce was still staring at the ceiling.
The song came to a high pitched crescendo. A piece of rock fell from the ceiling and clattered to the floor of the cave.
The guy standing next to me said, “What are the chances of a Ugandan Choir singing the OU Boomer Sooner fight song.”
The guide asked if there were any questions. I felt that the guide had been very informative, right down to explaining how difficult it is to change the light bulbs. And I thought the impromptu singing was an additional bonus—I had after all paid full price for Emma’s ticket. I glanced over to see Layce raise her hand.
“Yes?” the guide inquired.
“So what exactly is holding the ceiling up? You said that this cave was made out of a giant sink hole so what’s preventing it exactly from doing it again while we’re standing here. I mean can’t things like sound vibrations trigger the sinking thing?”
Everyone, including the orphans, stared up at the ceiling. There weren’t any beams or steel rods or anything and we were seventy feet underground and there were, according to the brochure, one hundred steps from cave bottom to the exit door. The little rogue orphan girl took one look up and ran up the stairs at full speed. This set off a chain reaction and everybody ran for the exit like it was the running of the bulls.
“What was holding the ceiling up?” I asked the guide once we were safely above ground.
“The cave holds the cave up,” he said blithely. “We have a wonderful gift shop.”
Caving was hard work and we were hungry. We went to the Townsender Café. The food was good and we beat the evening meal rush. There was going to be an Elvis impersonator at the little theater next door which is why the Townsender was packed by the time we finished eating.
Per any excellent adventure I adhere to the rule that one should never pass up a restroom. Emma came with me. I opened the door to the women’s restroom and a voice screeched, “I’m in here!”
“Okay, sorry about that, “I said, hurriedly shutting the door. I turned to Emma who looked alarmed.
“That was the town crazy lady,” Emma said.
“How do you know that?”
“I saw her at her table. She kept looking through her water glass at everybody like it was a crystal ball and she was casting spells.”
I added, “And she doesn’t lock bathroom doors. I suppose she thought I was wearing my infra red goggles and should have sensed her body heat so I knew she was in there.”
The crazy lady glared at us as she exited. I took my turn and left Emma, telling her to lock the door. She rolled her eyes.
I found Layce at the front door talking to Mr. Townsender. He was telling her about how later on the café would open the back deck for drinks and live music after Elvis had left the building. We should stay he said. Between the earring and the madras shirt I had a pretty good suspicion he was PLU (People like Us) and he thought the same of us.
Layce sighed. “We can’t stay.”
I figured she was going to tell him we had Emma and she was underage. I wasn’t expecting what she did say.
“See, we’re introverts. We don’t drink and I haven’t pooped yet today. So I think we’ll just mosey on home now.”
Mr. Townsender cleared his throat. He seemed at a loss.
I saved him. “The food was great. It’s a real nice town.”
“Yes, well, you all have a nice evening,” he said, giving Layce a look that might have said and “I hope you poop soon.” He moved across the room and his brown afro caught a breeze from the open door and his hair fanned out on the sides.
“He kind of looks like an irate cobra when his hair does that,” I said.
“I was thinking he could give the standard poodles a run for their money in the Westminister Dog Show,” Layce replied.
Emma joined us. “Don’t look now, but the Crazy Lady has us under surveillance.” I furtively glanced over and saw a giant eye looking at me through a water glass.
“I think it’s time we hit the road,” I said. “These little towns are nice but they have their issues.”
“We live in a little town,” Emma said.
“Yes, but we understand our issues and your mother’s poop portal only works on home soil. So we best get going.”
“You better not write a blog about this,” Layce said.
“I won’t,” I said, crossing my fingers.


Comments on: "Mystically Caving" (5)

  1. Don’t be surprised if you get smothered in your sleep! 😉

  2. As always you have made me LOL with your blog and antics. Well done.

  3. I wish I’d know you were going to Harrison. My sweethearts mom lived there with her 4th husband for the last 10 years of her life. We visited several times. They have the best bacon on earth named Potter’s (I think). And a fellow who looks like a werewolf, thick hair covering every uncovered part of his body. He scared the bejesus out of me exiting the Piggly Wiggly one day. Just east of the square was a herd of buffalo (across from mom’s house). Back then, Harrison was home to the Ku Klux Klan. Might still be. We did not visit the caverns. By the way — if I was Layce you’d be hanging from that ceiling, still.

  4. Donna MacArthur said:

    bathroom humor never fails to amuse..

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